


A queen, a crown

by Anonymous



Category: Tomb Raider & Related Fandoms, Tomb Raider (Video Games)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Himiko Redemption, Light Angst, Mentioned canonical sexual assault attempt, Mostly introspection, Nobody is Dead, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, mentions of torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:07:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28142859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Mathias dead, Sam saved - a happy ending, according to Tomb Raider standards.Lara doesn't agree. Neither does Himiko.(Alternatively: Another take at the characterization of Himiko and all the other survivors on the island.)
Relationships: Lara Croft & Himiko (Tomb Raider)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 9
Collections: Anonymous





	A queen, a crown

**Author's Note:**

> "There are no heroes here, only survivors!"
> 
> This is one of the last lines we get from Mathias in-game and the inspiration for the entirety of this fic. I want to say that although the survivors are painted in a more sympathetic light here, I do not in any way mean to justify their actions (killing people) torturing ppl, eating people, one of them attempting to sexually assault Lara, the list goes on). There are probably a lot of plotholes. And to that I say... welp. (feel free to point them out if you see any though)
> 
> This is also dedicated to my Game Studies class and Professor Phillips, which was the class I wrote this for. Never did I think I'd be submitting a fanfic as a final for a university-level course, but I couldn't be happier.

**TW: Graphic violence, PTSD, mentions of past attempted sexual assault**

Lara passes bodies on the way down from the mountain.

For the first time in days, her vision is free from pelting rain and cloudy skies. In the sunlight, the island shows off its dazzling, lush forests, its white-sand beaches. Wildlife chirps around them in a chorus of song, punctuated by the steps of the animals in the underbrush. It’d be almost serene, were it not for the traces of carnage from only moments ago. 

Many, Lara knows, did not experience a quick death. Death by blood loss never is. She tries to train her eyes forward, locked on the path down, careful to not let her gaze linger lest she sees one twitch. From a death throe, or something else.

Lara’s glad Sam is out cold. While it’d be nice to have her fill the silence with the warm admiration that always fills her voice, Lara can’t imagine it’d mix well with the horror that’s starting to catch up to her, starting to well up in the bottom of her throat and threaten to burst. 

She pushes it down. Like she pushed it down after watching Grim fall, after having to abandon both Alex and Roth to their deaths. It’s the thought of Roth that does it. She has to stop.

Lara lowers Sam to the ground. She almost drops Sam instead, because of how much her hands are trembling, but Lara doubts Sam would’ve woken either way. Having your soul almost pushed out of your body would do that to you. 

Lara feels out passing out, herself. She hasn’t had a good night’s sleep since washing up on Yamatai. For a brief moment of insanity—one of many she’s had in the past few days—she almost lets herself curl up beside Sam and pretend she’s also out of commission. Despite all of Reyes’ threats, Lara knows she’s not the type to actually abandon the two of them, and she has all the faith that they’d be found whether or not one of them wakes. But she also sees the specks of their silhouettes on the beach, heads clearly aimed upward. Far enough that they can’t see her, but close enough that Lara can’t justify taking a break.

So she stays standing but still can’t bring herself to move. She stares at the sun-speckled waves, rolling gently for what she presumes is the first time in decades. The two figures on the beach walk back and forth, a little anxiously. Lara imagines they’re preparing for two more deaths they have to grieve. None of them had grieved properly, yet.

_ “Was it worth it?” _

Lara wonders about after. They’ll go back, yes—likely garner international attention with the artifacts she’s found and the stories they’re carrying. Likely become heroes in the archeological community for finally cracking the ‘Yamatai mystery.’ Maybe release that documentary with the surviving footage in Sam’s camera.

Hell no. It wasn’t worth it.

_ “Lara Croft,”  _ a voice—not her own, she realizes with a start—murmurs in her ear.  _ “Would you be willing to try again?” _

_ Yes.  _ The answer is tumbling from her lips before she can think twice about it.

And then, she’s gone.

* * *

She wakes up next to a dying campfire, its ashes smoldering under the first flecks of dimmed-out sunlight peeking through the thick, rolling clouds overhead. A fizzing radio is in her hand, but a bow is not. At this, she feels a surge of panic overcome her, jolting her awake.

“Where am I?” she shouts, breaths starting to come in gasps rather than a smooth in-and-out. Because, if it was a dream, if it wasn’t real—

_ “Calm.” _

The voice in her head is clear and overpowering, drowning out her panicked thoughts. A voice of a woman—youthful, strong, confident. Of a queen.

Lara feels a bit hysterical. “Himiko?”

_ “Yes,”  _ the Sun Queen responds, having the gall to sound  _ amused. _

Another roll of panic. “What  _ is _ this?” Lara bites out, throwing her hands up. “What—where am I?”

_ “The island is my domain. Even the time that it resides in.” _

It takes Lara about a minute to respond. “You turned back  _ time?”  _

_ “Is it so surprising to you that I have such a power?”  _

She considers the fact that she is talking to a dead person in her head. No wonder Mathias absolutely lost it. “Does it make a difference if it’s surprising to me?”

_ “No, except increasing the time lost.”  _ There’s no trace of warning in Himiko’s voice—just fact.  _ “There are no second chances, Lara Croft. I suggest you not waste it.” _

Lara wants to ask a thousand more questions while Himiko is being amicable, but she figures it’s best not to press upon the queen’s sudden goodwill. Plus, Himiko’s right. She doesn’t have her bow. So she nods (not knowing if ghosts are able to  _ see),  _ packs up her stuff, and leaves. 

Her instincts don’t fail her. After running around the island for so long, it’s easy to trace her steps back to where she first found the bow and swiftly go through the steps in getting it off the body. She’d forgotten that her trusty companion was originally that of a dead man’s. She remembers cowering the first time she’d seen the face of the body. That Lara seems like a stranger now.

She makes quick work of a deer nearby, storing its meat away for later. The pang of hunger, while prominent, isn’t unfamiliar. Lara figures she’ll be able to go a couple hours more without eating, and hunger sharpens her senses anyways. 

Just as she’s about to head to where she knows the others are located, Himiko’s booming voice says,  _ “Find Nikolai.”  _

“Who?” Lara says a moment before her memory catches up with her. Nikolai—a name she’s seen scrawled on the bottom of the series of notes cursing the cruelty of Father Mathias. “Oh.”

She's not exactly delighted at having to face the Solarii Brotherhood again. And what Himiko is asking her to do, to willingly traverse into their base to find a single man who may or may not kill her on the spot doesn't sound like the greatest plan. But she sees where Himiko is going. In the slight chance he listens, she can tell him everything. The failed soul transfer. The real way off the island: not through ceremony, but cremation of Himiko's corpse.

Himiko's demise.

_ "Well? Do you wish to stand around and repeat your past mistakes?" _

“Why are you helping me?” Lara blurts.

Himiko— _ laughs.  _ Her laugh is light and airy in Lara’s ears, but weighed down with a bitterness that coats her next words.  _ “I have seen how it ends. There is no use in trying to pass down a legacy that will only cause more bloodshed. When you released me, I tasted freedom for the first time in millenia. I had forgotten the sweetness of it. I wish for Yamatai, my people, to taste the same.” _

“Your people?” Lara echoes. “They’re madmen because of you. Because you didn’t let them leave.”

_ “Yes.” _ And despite her reservations, Lara’s heart clenches at the sorrow in the Sun Queen’s voice.  _ “But they have also become my people. And now—I will not leave them.” _

Lara considers the possibility that Himiko is lying. That her soft regret is nothing but a ploy to regain power, for another try at taking Sam as a vessel. And perhaps sensing her hesitation, Himiko continues.

_ “I have regrets.”  _ Himiko confesses.  _ “But I cannot say my choices were made from lunacy. I believe my people prospered under my rule. That I was honorable to them. I wanted to prolong it. And if there were sacrifices… I think you understand the feeling, Lara Croft.” _

There’s a protest on Lara’s lips that never comes. Instead she says, “You’re saying we’re alike.”

_ “Is it that despicable?” _ Himiko asks, with that same note of regret.  _ “But no, not quite. I am saying you understand more than you’d like.” _

Lara doesn’t respond, but she starts moving towards the heart of the island to the Solarii base.

* * *

She chooses the sneakier option this time. Last time, she hadn’t thought twice about trampling through fortified paths and tunnels, but she figures if she’s going to have a chance at even approaching Nikolai, there needs to be less people on edge about her whereabouts. Luckily, the more inward she gets into the island, the less patrols there are. They probably suspect that the shipwreck survivors are still near the southeast edge of the island as they’d been the last time.

The downside to this is that shooting her way through was a much quicker option than sneaking. It’s almost nightfall by the time she reaches Shantytown. Himiko suggests she rest soon in the deep forest and recharge before continuing. Lara’s growling stomach agrees even if her psyche does not—tonight, she remembers, is the night she and the other survivors are captured.

_ “Do not linger,”  _ Himiko warns. She has a point. Even in passing, Lara sees that Shantytown is certainly not the eerie, deserted area she remembers from her first visit. It is full. The cover of night washes out the gray overtones of the cobbled-together metal surfaces, leaving behind only the orange glow of hanging lanterns and fire pits dotted between its structures. She sees the figures of men wandering through its streets, settling into their homes or gathering beside the fire. Although she can’t make out their words due to distance, she does hear the laughter that pierces the murmurings every so often. Yamatai, to her, does not seem like a place for laughter. The Solarii do not seem like people accustomed to laughter. 

But she supposes that’s false. She’d heard them joke with one another, be exasperated, show a spectrum of emotion before the panic she’d instill by jumping out of her cover and taking them down one-by-one.

_ “Onward to the caverns, Lara Croft.” _

Lara nods. She eats the deer meat, forcing it down and trying her best not to throw it back up.

* * *

Lara is fully expecting to have to traverse through the cavern’s horrible depths to reach the Solarii Fortress. Luckily, she doesn’t need to get that far to find Nikolai.

She’s managed to sneak past the entrance guards thanks to some organizational commotion outside of her control and is creeping through the cavern’s passageways when she hears several sets of footsteps headed her way. She dives behind some boxes conveniently placed nearby, close enough to catch their conversation. One voice is louder than the rest, deep and heavy with a Russian accent.

“...survivors on the island. Vladimir has rounded them up, but he’s requested more patrols and backup. A lot more. He’s on the eastern beach, near temple three. I will be in the caverns for the night.” 

“Not Dmitri?”

“He’s taken my place. Mathias requested me here.”

The man talking doesn’t seem happy about that fact. And in the riskiest move yet, Lara peeks out behind the edge of the boxes.

Nikolai is easy to pick out thanks to the tattoos inscribed on his chest. She’s lucky that he likes to show it off so much, even with the night chill. She’s even luckier that he’s here at all—although, she wonders how much of it is luck and how much of it is planned by Himiko. He is followed by a group of five men. 

The man seems as unpleasant as he seemed when she first saw him. Permanent scowl on his face, low, barking sort of voice. The very picture of obedience to the Solarii. She can hardly believe that he’s the same Nikolai who expressed so much doubt in his writing. 

“To set up initiation proceedings?” asks the man on the right of Nikolai, who Lara doesn’t recognize.

“Something like that. Now off with you all,” Nikolai says, nodding to the men around him.

They linger. “How many more must we take?” the same man asks.

“Mathias is convinced this is the last. There is one among them, he said.”

“That is what he always says,” another spits out, teeth bared. “All this talk of rituals and salvation, for how long? There is talk. You know this. Nikolai, perhaps this is the time—”

“No,” Nikolai says. “Not this hurriedly, and not with Vladimir and Boris out there this instant. There will always be talk. But we must care for our own.” He claps the man on the shoulder. “Now go.”

At this, they finally go to leave. But not without the unnamed man turning back with a last word. “One can only see so much suffering in a lifetime.”

Nikolai shakes his head. But the man’s words seem to root him to the spot, for he remains still even as his comrades are gone from sight. 

And Lara seizes the chance. She lunges out from behind the boxes, arrow in one hand and knife in the other. In a one-on-one, she’d be far outmatched by his size, but surprise is enough to make him buckle once Lara tackles him. He falls to the ground face-first, sputtering as dust covers his face. Lara takes this chance to remove the pistol from his waist. When Nikolai attempts to lift his head, he feels the barrel of his own gun touch the back of his skull.

“Don’t move. I need you to listen to me.” Lara says steadily. “My name is Lara. Mathias is wrong about the ceremony. The real way to escape the island is to burn Himiko’s body—and I have proof. There’s an inscription in one of the tombs saying so. You need to burn it.”

Nikolai is still when he growls, “You’re one of the new survivors. An intruder.”

“An  _ intru—?”  _

“You’ve intruded on our territory. And you threaten like you’ve done it before. You are prepared to kill. I see it.” Nikolai’s voice hardens. “I will shout, and you will be captured.”

From Himiko’s confidence, this is not the way Lara expected the conversation to go. “No, I’m here to help—”

_ “Help?”  _ Nikolai laughs, even as Lara shoves the barrel of the gun closer to his head. “Have you been here for more than one day? Have you a heart for us, strangers who you hardly know? Do not take me for a fool. You are here for a hostage. For your other survivors. Good for you. But I will die to stop you here.”

She feels him take a breath, ready to carry out his promise.  _ “Wait!”  _ she hisses, pulling back the gun and standing, backing up against the wall. 

Lara remembers the last time she was unarmed. Remembers the rancid breath on her ear as the man leaned in and for a moment, the grip on the gun gets tighter—

_ “I am sorry,”  _ Himiko whispers, genuinely mournful.  _ “But this is the way.”  _

—it falls from her hand, safety on. Nikolai, who’d seemed ready to lunge the moment he regained his footing, pauses. Lara raises her hands in surrender.

“Are you convinced?” It’s all she can do to prevent her voice from shaking.

Nikolai picks up the gun. But instead of pointing it right back at her, he stares at it.

_ I tried, _ Lara thinks.  _ Roth would approve, I think.  _ And she holds her breath, willing her heart’s throbbing to quiet.

Nikolai’s gaze turns back to her.

“Say that again,” he says. “This time, tell me which tomb.” 

* * *

He takes her to a secluded offshoot of the caverns, away from the deeper chambers full of cages and bodies. She is stripped of her bow, arrows, and knife, but it’s a fair trade for Nikolai to feel somewhat at ease around her. 

She can’t decipher his emotions at all. Not even when he asks her what kind of inscription they should be looking for at the general’s tomb. She tries to watch his face as she explains it, but there’s not a trace of anything there—hope, excitement, doubt, nothing. He gives her a curt nod and gets out his walkie-talkie. He has a long conversation with someone in Russian. Lara can make out one word in the beginning— _ Dmitri.  _

“We cannot enter the tomb you speak of,” he says. “For obvious reasons—that being the Stormguard.”

_ “My guards will stand down.” _

“The Stormguard will stand down,” Lara parrots. “Please, believe me.”

“If you know of them, you know they are merciless.”

“Watch from far away if you need to. They don’t attack those who intrude.”

Another long conversation, with both sides seeming more irritated. And then, a pause. More Russian. 

The signal cuts out, and Nikolai looks at her with a different gaze than before. Less suspicious, more calculating. “It is true. The Stormguard are still. My brother is guiding a team inside as we speak, and he will confirm.” He narrows his eyes. “How did you know?”

Lara doesn’t know what would sound more ridiculous. A lie or the truth. “I just need you to trust me.”

“Trust,” Nikolai echoes. “I have not trusted in a long time, in anyone besides my brothers.”

“Neither have I.”

“Yet, you put down the gun. Was that trust?”

Lara thinks of Himiko. “That…that was faith.”

Nikolai’s laugh is sharp and cutting, enough to make her freeze. “Faith. I have not had faith in an even longer time than trust. Not in the Sun Queen. Not in my God,  _ бог _ . Nor in myself.”

The sudden vulnerability is…Lara doesn’t know what to make of it. It’s less reassuring and more like the words of a man on his last strings of sanity. She stays quiet.

“Mathias, you know of him—he is a madman, and we are cursed for following him. We have been passive in ritual after ritual. There are many here who have kept their wits, even after the initiation, but it is disillusionment that causes them to fall. Or desperation for faith. Or hope. But others here, my brothers—we just want to live. And we have sacrificed much for a life here on Yamatai. I can no longer call ourselves anything but monsters.” Nikolai’s eyes are dark as they meet Lara’s gaze. “I frighten you.”

She can’t bring herself to lie. “You all do.”

“Yet you have faith.”

“I frighten myself.” Lara admits, hands shaking at the truth of it. Nikolai studies her, until he is interrupted by words on the walkie-talkie. 

“My brother has found the inscriptions as you described. Mathias is preparing for the testing of the survivors. If we are to go, we must go now.” He meets her gaze.

_ I killed you, _ she thinks. But if guilt shows on her face, it doesn’t hinder him from his next words.

“I will also choose to have faith,” he says.

* * *

Dmitri is waiting for them in the dark of the chamber. It’s an entirely different place without Mathias, his crowd of supporters, and Sam tied to a stake in the middle of the room. He has a couple men with him, all of whom gape openly at her presence. 

It’s quickly made known to her why that is. “We’re trusting the word of a stranger? Mathias will have us killed for this.”

“He will kill us either way. And unlike Mathias, she has not been wrong.” 

They approach the coffin together like a funeral procession. Nikolai pushes back the cover, letting the rotten stench of Himiko’s corpse free from its prison. One of the men lights a torch and passes it up. 

Instead of dropping it directly on the corpse, he pauses with the fire hovering over Himiko’s long-decayed face.

“You have long served on this island. May you rest in peace,” he says. His voice echoes around the chamber. A final rite for the island of Yamatai. Somewhere in her mind, Himiko sighs.

Nikolai looks tired. The flame dancing across his face only emphasizes the bone-deep weariness etched into the grooves of his sun-weathered skin, a weariness Lara has felt herself a number of times—the first rainy night next to a flickering campfire, crawling up to the riverbank not sure if she was alive or dead, in watching Mathias fall off the cliff edge, body embedded with bullets that she had fired.

Lara puts a hand on his shoulder. It seems to say enough. She watches as Nikolai drops the torch, watches as the flames engulf Himiko for a final time, setting them free.


End file.
